


Purpose

by viktornikiforow



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ekaterina Nikiforov, M/M, depressed victor, implied victuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 12:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10944450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viktornikiforow/pseuds/viktornikiforow
Summary: Before Victor saw the video of Yuuri skating to his "Stay close to me" he had had no purpose in his life. A small add-on and introducing - Vitya's mother!





	Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello! This is my first fanfiction in English and on this site. I'm Polish myself, but I had a great beta who checked the text for me. Hopefully, I can write even more fanfics in English and get better. You can find me on Tumblr under the same nickname "viktornikiforow". I'm more likely to answer any questions there than here.  
> Enjoy!

 

# Purpose

Winters in Saint Petersburg were always harsh and unforgiving. The wind was howling between the buildings and making it utterly difficult for people to reach their destination. They were floundering through the snow tired, cold and agitated.

During those long, winter days Victor Nikiforov would not leave his apartment unless he had to. The weather was making him depressed and subdued.

_Depression._

The diagnosis was clear as day, he felt that something was wrong. Winning gold medals did not make him happy anymore, often faking smiles to please his audience. He even cried himself to sleep some nights when the loneliness in his chest was uncontainable. His king sized bed was so big in comparison to himself, and he could only share it with his loyal, and currently only companion, Makkachin. If it weren't for the dog, he would probably go insane, drowning in fear and the unbeatable loneliness that he has often thought about causing harm to himself. When that last thought occurred, Victor decided that it is finally time to do something about it. He was quickly approaching the breaking point. Victor knows coming, but just doesn't know how long it will take.

His mother supported him during these hard times. He could fool his fans, but never his mother. She was bright, smart, and sometimes annoyingly persistent. He visited her just after his last Grand Prix Finale.

Ekaterina Nikiforov was a successful businesswoman. She ran a prosperous company in Saint Petersburg and was the one who had made the Nikiforov surname famous in the first place. Her husband, Victor's father, died of cancer and left the company in her care. Whenever Victor complained about his practice, or not feeling up to his competitors in his division, Ekaterina would lay his head on her lap and lovingly stroke her fingers through his hair, and speak in a soft but determined voice.

“ You know,” she started trailing her nails along Victor’s scalp slowly, “when I first started running your father's company everybody would laugh and mock me. Not at my face, of course, but I knew what they were saying behind my back. _“A woman in charge? Ha! We might as well just start job hunting now, no way this company will grow.”_ It was awful and I felt terrible with the lack of trust, but I did my best to ignore them. Show them I wasn't scared of them and that I was going to overcome their words. Keep your head high, darling, it'll all pass with time.”

Victor raised his head and looked into his mother's eyes. They were a deep, blue colour, a few shades darker than his own eyes. His mother's were the colour of the deep ocean, full of strength and mystery, while Victor's own were often compared to wintery skies and snowflakes.  Her long, grey, wispy hair, soft as feathers tickled his face when she moved. In that aspect they really looked alike.

He always had admired his mother and was sad that she couldn't attend to his performances. He understood that she had a busy schedule, but having her there would honestly help his anxieties and doubts. Sometimes he just needed a hug and a loving pat on the head with words of encouragement, instead of applause and flowers. Ekaterina would always congratulate him after the competition, but it simply wouldn't fill the void that so desperately craved his mother’s presence when things got tough.

She had noticed that something was off when Victor had returned home from his latest GPF. Ekaterina greeted him as always and treated him to a wonderful dinner. She was an excellent cook, a skill that he sadly didn't have. After dinner, they sat in the living room, where they would often talk about Victor’s performance, making comments on what he believed was best and what could use some work.

Ekaterina knew a lot about ice skating, mostly due to the fact that Victor always seemed to ramble off and get quite deep in his explanations. She often did research on the sport herself, wishing to keep up and support her son as much as possible.

“What was that?” She asked, pouring him a glass of red wine. Drinking it was a tradition of theirs when they spoke about competitions.

“What was what?” Victor looked at his mother, confused. He knew that tone far too well, curiosity and concern lacing her words, but why was the real question.

“Your smile, when you lifted that golden medal.” Ekaterina raised the glass to her lips, speaking against the rim, “It was a rather sad smile for someone who just won the highest place on the podium.”

Victor was, as always, impressed with his mother’s observation. Always knowing what he son was thinking, no matter what was going on in the storm he calls his head, and how he tries to hide it. Victor also had to admit he’s a decent liar, fooling everyone but the one who really cared.

He sighed quietly, “Well, I don't really know how to explain it. Lately I've been feeling kind of burned out, you know? Lacking the drive and motivation that makes winning worth it. I don't mean to brag, but I got so used to winning, to being above everyone and feeling the rush that it doesn't feel good anymore. I need a challenge, mom!”

Ekaterina smiled gently. She looked absolutely dignified, holding a glass of red wine between her long and delicate fingers and tucking her long, grey hair behind her ear with the other, the silver bracelets wrapped around her wrists clinked quietly when she put the glass onto the table in front of them.

“You were always so ambitious.” She said with a proud smile. “It doesn't surprise me that you feel burned out, Vitya. You need a purpose in life, otherwise you feel like everything you do is meaningless. Do you have a purpose?”

He knew he didn't have a purpose. His main purpose was to win, but he had won every time. He needed to find a new goal.

“I'm worried about you,” Ekaterina said while hugging him tightly. He could smell the delicate aroma of jasmine and apples, the perfumes he had given her for her birthday. This and the usual, warm, fragrance of a mother. He was close to tearing up, finally feeling _something_ , after so long. He managed to keep it to himself and instead offered a content sigh. “Maybe I should set up a meeting with a therapist?”

Victor drew back from her confused, “A therapist? What for?”

“You need to talk about your problems to someone more experienced than me, Vitya. I can only comfort you and I will do everything in my power to make you feel better, but you are a sportsman. There is a lot of pressure on you. I think visiting a therapist would be good for you.”

He shook his head, “What about the press? I am sure they would love to spread something to cause drama. I can only imagine the headlines now, _“Russian Champion Victor Nikiforov in Need of Mental Help?”_ Not the best kind of publicity.”

Ekaterina looked at him and he could see a subtle but definite change in her demeanor. Her eyes were set and cold, her jaw set, her lips were drawn into a frown. This was the side she kept for serious occasions and business meetings when those would question her ability to lead.

“I would like to see them try,” She said in a tone Victor had never heard very often, malice dripping from her words as a taunt.

_Come near my son, I dare you._

“Besides, a lot of sportspeople have a therapist. Their mental health is far more important than what press would say.”

Victor nodded, still not convinced. He decided to at least give it a try. Ekaterina pulled some strings and got her son an appointment with a trusted friend. She would do whatever it took to try and keep this away from media as much as possible.

________________________

This day started like every other, but Victor had no idea that his life is going to change just because of a simple video clip, uploaded by three Japanese triplets.

His sessions with doctor Ravishenko did help a slight amount, but Victor couldn't help but think that they were not enough. He was distracted all the time, he barely could remember coming home, feeding Makkachin and then going to sleep. He even tried to learn cooking and almost burned his kitchen down. He was losing motivation to do anything and hated himself for it.

Makkachin whined quietly and jumped onto the couch next to him. Victor softly pet and scratched the dog's head, lost his in thoughts. Maybe it was a good time to quit skating for good? After all, he was getting to the point when skaters would retire and let younger skaters take their place.

He looked at his phone and found out that it was turned off. Doctor Ravishenko prohibited using mobile phones during their sessions as he thought they were distracting and unnecessary.

Victor turned the phone on and almost dropped it when the phone started to buzz like a crazy, not even having time to fully vibrate. He turned all the notifications off as they got really annoying, but he found out that it was Mila's and Yakov's texts that made the phone go frantic.

_Victor, check out the video I sent to you! Oh my God!_

_What is the meaning of this, boy? Why is this Japanese skater copying you? Is he your fan?_

Victor raised his eyebrows, confused. What Japanese skater? A lot of people tagged him on Facebook and Instagram as well. He tapped on the link Mila had sent to him.

When he saw dark-haired man, who was skating to his “Stay Close to Me” routine, he was surprised at first. He watched him closely. He had a vague feeling that he had seen this man before, but couldn't remember where and when. He was a bit chubby for a skater, but Victor found himself thinking the dark-haired man was cute.

Victor shook his head, but couldn't take his eyes off the screen. His skating was almost perfect. Full of emotions. There was something sad about him and Victor felt a connection with this man.

When the video ended, he scrolled down for more information. It was written that the performer was Katsuki Yuuri from Japan. Victor suddenly remembered. He saw him at the airport the other day! And maybe even sooner? He offered to take a commemorative photo, but the man just walked away, looking really down. Didn't he quit being skater?

Victor got up energetically from the couch. Makkachin looked at him and tilted his head. Victor ruffled his fur, feeling as if someone gave him an electric shot. It's been a long time since he felt so energetic and ready to take some action. He grabbed his phone. He was hoping his mother was not busy at the moment.

“Hello, Vitya? Is everything okay?” He could tell by her voice that she was worried and he felt a slight drop in his chest at the thought. He never wanted for her to worry about anything.

“Yes, mom, everything is perfect!” Victor could barely contain the happiness he felt at that moment. “Mom, I'm going to Japan.”

“To Japan? What is in Japan, Vitya?” She sounded less worried now and more confused.

Victor smiled widely.

“My purpose.”  


End file.
